Morning arrived with a quiet rain that seemed unsure of itself. It fell softly at first, tapping gently against the window as if asking for permission to stay. Over time it grew heavier, creating a curtain of water that blurred the world outside Ha Jun's apartment.
He stood by the window, watching droplets slide down the glass. His body felt tired, but not the kind of tired that sleep could erase. His night with Ji Hye on the phone had kept him from sinking, yet his mind still felt like a room without enough air.
His younger sister peeked in through the door without knocking.
"Oppa, are you awake?"
He turned. She was still in her pink pajamas and had crumbs on her cheek from breakfast.
"Yes," he answered softly.
"Appa said he will drive me to school today because of the rain. Omma said to ask if you want to come with us." Her voice was bright and sincere, the kind that had not yet learned how heavy life could become.
Ha Jun smiled, the kind of smile that reached only the surface.
"It is alright. I will go later."
She nodded and ran off, leaving her small footsteps echoing faintly down the hallway.
He watched her disappear and felt a tug inside him. Children had a way of believing that love could fix everything. He wished he could borrow that belief, even for a moment.
He showered, dressed quietly, and stepped out into the rain. The world was drowned in grey light. Water splashed under his shoes with each step. People held umbrellas like small shields against the morning.
He walked to the university campus where the buildings stood tall and soaked. Trees shivered under the weight of the rain. Students hurried past him, chatting loudly, complaining about the weather.
For a moment he felt like a ghost drifting through a living world.
When he entered the main building, he spotted Ji Hye leaning against a vending machine. She wore a soft cream sweater and held a warm drink with both hands. A strand of her dark hair clung to her cheek from the misty air.
The moment she saw him, her expression softened in a way that made the space around him feel less narrow.
"You came without an umbrella," she said.
"I am fine," he replied.
"You are soaked from your hair to your sleeves. That is not fine."
Her voice was gentle, not scolding. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small towel.
He blinked.
"You carry that around?"
"I thought you might forget yours."
She smiled faintly.
"I was right."
He took the towel slowly. Their fingers brushed. A quiet warmth passed between them like a breath neither expected.
Ji Hye looked at him carefully.
"Did you sleep at all?"
He looked away.
"A little."
She did not push further. She simply walked beside him toward their classroom in silence. Not an awkward silence. A warm one. The kind that asked nothing, only stayed.
When they reached the lecture room, Ha Jun hesitated.
The lights felt too bright.
The room felt too small.
He suddenly found it hard to breathe.
Ji Hye noticed immediately.
"Do you want to sit near the back?"
He nodded.
They slipped into the last row. The lecture began. Students took notes and chatted quietly among themselves. Ha Jun stared at his notebook but the words blurred. His mind was slipping into that familiar fog again. Not panic. Not fear. Just emptiness that felt too loud.
His hand trembled on the page.
Ji Hye slowly reached under the desk and touched his sleeve.
Her voice was barely louder than a breath.
"You are here. Stay with me."
He swallowed and nodded. Her presence steadied him.
But halfway through the lecture, the sky outside darkened further. Thunder rumbled. The rain grew heavier, hitting the windows with sharp rhythm. The sound rose until it covered the lecturer's voice.
Ha Jun's chest tightened again.
The storm outside felt too familiar.
Too much like the storm he carried inside.
Memories flickered.
A birthday.
A scream.
A hospital.
A room with locked windows.
A sister he never got to grow old with.
His fingers curled around his pen until his knuckles whitened.
Ji Hye leaned closer.
"Look at me," she whispered.
He turned.
Her eyes were steady and warm and entirely focused on him.
"You are not there," she murmured.
"You are here."
He breathed slowly. Once. Then again. The classroom faded back into focus. The storm outside softened to a distant echo.
When the lecture ended, Ji Hye gently gathered his books for him.
"Let us go somewhere quiet."
He followed her out of the building. The rain had eased into a soft drizzle. She led him toward the back of the campus where an old greenhouse stood. It was no longer used but the school kept it unlocked for students who needed silence.
When they entered, warm moist air wrapped around them. The glass walls were fogged. The plants were overgrown but peaceful. The world outside felt far away.
Ha Jun sank onto a bench and let out a slow breath.
"I am sorry," he whispered.
"Do not apologize."
"I am twenty one. I should be stronger than this. I should be better."
She shook her head firmly.
"Strength is not something you prove. It is something you survive with."
He looked at her carefully.
"Why do you stay?"
She sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
"Because you would stay if it were me," she said.
"And because you think you are trouble when you are not. You are someone who needs warmth. That is not a burden. That is just a part of being alive."
Her words hit him harder than he expected. His throat tightened.
Ji Hye added softly,
"Let yourself feel things without shame. Even the painful ones."
Silence wrapped around them.
The rain whispered on the glass roof.
The air smelled of earth and old leaves.
For the first time in a long while, Ha Jun let his guard lower. He leaned back and let the softness of the old greenhouse carry him for a moment.
Ji Hye watched him with a tenderness she did not attempt to hide.
In this quiet space, surrounded by forgotten plants and the ghost of rain, something between them deepened. Not a confession. Not a promise. Just a small shift, like the earth preparing for a new season.
A season not yet here.
A season waiting.
The chapter ends with their silence resting gently between them, leaving an unsettling question in the air.
Is change finally coming for Ha Jun
Or is another storm waiting behind the next breath.